Everybody's doin' . . . what they shouldn't be doin' . . . everybody's doin' it in the middle of the street

Did one of you put them up to it? I'm referring to the envelope the USPS delivered to my door the morning after my ranting post about the AARP. It was a giant envelope that said this:



You can see why I'm a little suspicious. But I guess if I were acting my age, I wouldn't be listening to Electric Six on my ipod (see post title . . . too old for this allusion? Dude.) On the other hand, I am acting exactly my age when my technological impairment requires me to have Chelsea load my ipod with running music. And luckily for me she sometimes plants little surprise nuggets for me to find, which greatly enhance my running pleasure. One such nugget has given us today's title. The song continues:

Improper dancing . . . in the middle of the street . . . somebody better notify the chief of police!

I am terribly guilty of improper dancing. (Well, my dancing was relatively proper in the late 70's; I haven't checked on it much since then so I'm not sure.) But I'm certainly guilty of doin' what I shouldn't be doin'. Pretty much every minute of every day. And if I were acting my age, I would certainly be able to make myself do something that I'm supposed to be doing, wouldn't I?

If you could see my studio you'd know that I've been neglecting the To Do list. Let's back up -- if you could see my kitchen floor, you'd run screaming to my studio in hopes that things would be better there. And if you could see my garage . . . actually I'm saving that for my next post.

Remember when I was supposed to be taking you through the (long, boring) process of making one of my pieces? Well, this is what that looks like:



It's not so bad, I told you it would take a l-o-n-g time, but that was assuming I would be working on it regularly. I will offer this in my defense. It is called "gardenspot" and it happened while I was not doin' what I should have been doin'. But at least it happened.



There is also another piece that has 90% happened during this time. Would you like to see that as evidence that I haven't merely been watching the Price is Right? (Which reminds me of a funny story -- my sister suggested I should name my business "stuff I make while watching the Price is Right". Actually, not a funny, but rather a painful story.) But here's the 90%:



The problem with this stage in a piece (the dreaded last 10%) is that it takes me as long as the previous 90%. I once spent an entire week arranging and rearranging 4 buttons to finish a piece. (True -- Hannah will vouch for the veracity of this claim.) I ended up using no buttons. And now that Hannah's not here to give me advice, I may be rearranging buttons forever. Yet another thing to do while I'm not doin' what I should be.

There have also been drawings. Remember the pickup truck? That kept me busy for a sec. But that leads to something else I was supposed to be doing. A drawing a day, remember? There have really only been two other drawings in that time:






The one bird you may recognize as being the 90% finished bird, the other bird is going to be an empty nest piece (issues, anyone? Somebody better notify Susan's therapist.) Here's how that one's progressing:






Rats. While I should have been working harder on that, I was probably eating mini Snickers bars or something. Halloween candy is my enemy. Well, halloween candy and mexican food. And other stuff. So that leads me to something else I was supposed to be doing:



I guess I don't have the courage to be beautiful . . . let's definitely save dieting for another post. And I'll try to use my well-honed procrastination skills on writing it.

My mother knows me well and therefore sent me this paperweight which sits on my desk:



Truer words were never spoken. You can't believe the stuff I used to make when I designed for Family Circle (a business of ridiculous and completely unrealistic deadlines). For instance, during the week of Christmas I once made an entire wardrobe of paper easter bonnets:



Seriously. If I could do that, why can't I finish the painting I've been trying to start for the past month?

My sister-in-law must also know me well, because she once sent me this card:



Now if I could just get somebody to send me a deadline . . .















Oooh -- look what just arrived in the mail! My favorite -- I'm going to devour it right now. I've got some cold diet coke in the frige. I probably have another new magazine around here somewhere . . .


Somebody better notify the chief of police.